41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Cameron

Having Mason around was causing me to develop a serious daddy kink, which was absolutely terrible considering everything going on with her dad.

I was distraught when my family, including my biological dad, passed away. After all these years, my memories of my dad had faded and distorted, leaving me wondering if I ever really knew him at all. Because the fire stole everyone from me at the same time, I was never able to grieve for them as individuals. Their names all carried the same sorrow: the absence of a family that would never return home.

In my life after that tragedy, Dale became synonymous with the word ‘father’. Given the way he’d made my life hell, it was hard for me to sympathize with the anguish of losing a father figure. I’d pay money if someone could make Dale disappear, but that’d be more trouble than it was worth. So, instead of wishing that Dale and James could magically change places, I focused on trying to distract Mason.

About an hour ago, I encouraged Mason and the kids to lie down in the living room and watch a movie or two. It was around the kids’ nap time, so I knew the two of them would fall asleep. But Mason told me she chugged a coffee on the way home, so I’d been hoping to steal her away for some “adult playtime” when the twins zonked out.

Unfortunately, as I approached the couch, I realized my sexual desires would have to wait. Mason was passed out with the kids while some kind of Japanese cartoon played in the background.

Juniper was on the loveseat with her hand stretched out, holding onto the sleeve of Mason’s shirt for dear life, and Jas had squeezed himself onto the couch with Mason. The way she held onto him was protective and loving, and… really damn close to her belly. Should she be holding him like that? Was it safe for Rosie?

Okay, it was time to move them.

I started with Juniper, just because I knew she’d be easier. That kid could sleep through a bomb going off—she didn’t even stir as I scooped her up and carried her into the kids’ room. Once Juni was securely tucked in her bed, I came back down the steps for Jasper.

But, as I watched him and Mason for a beat, I wondered if I’d be better off moving them together. Jasper had one hand full of Mason’s hair, and the other hand was gripping her cheek. Upon closer inspection, I could see Mason holding onto the back of his shirt, as if she was terrified he would fall and was doing everything in her power to prevent it.

She was going to be such a good mom.

After weighing the pros and cons, I decided it was best to move Jas purely because I didn’t want him to squish his little sister.

My boy is a big brother.

I stopped dead in my tracks as my lips quivered into a smile. A sense of pride crept across my chest—strange, considering Jasper hadn’t done a damn thing. He hadn’t learned a new skill or cleaned up his toys; he hadn’t even drawn me a picture. And yet, I felt overwhelming pride for the caring brother I knew he was going to be. I loved the idea of him looking into a bassinet and seeing a little girl that was half me and half Mason.

I hoped Rosie had her mother’s eyes.

My presence brought danger upon everyone. I knew that. But I was going to eliminate the threat or die trying. That was my role as a father, and as a partner. The world may have never deserved Mason Albright, but Mason Albright deserved the world, and I was going to give it to her. A world full of happiness and love, one she had only started to see.

I’d be damned if Dale took that from her.

With that in mind, I scooped Jasper up, forcing my finger into his little hand so he’d release Mason. I also slid a pillow into Mason’s arms so she wouldn’t notice Jasper’s absence and wake up.

This worked at first, but when the first stair creaked under my foot, Jasper knew something was up. His little eyes cracked, and his bottom lip quivered.

“Masie!” he called as tears pearled along his lashes.

“Shhh!”

I marched up the steps a little faster, but I just ended up jostling him more. By the time we reached his bedroom door, the poor boy was sobbing. But, instead of telling him to man up or to stop, I held him against my chest. The days of him being my youngest were rapidly approaching their end, and I wanted to soak it in.

“I want Masie,” he muffled into my chest. I shushed him as I patted his back.

“I know, buddy, I know.”

Both the kids were like this with Mason, but Jasper was worse. Lucian was worried the kids would get too attached if they found out we were dating Mason, so he’d forbidden us from telling them. But how on earth could they get more attached than they already were?

“I can’t have you sleepin’ on her like that.” I soothed, smoothing his curls as I spoke. “She’s got your baby sister in her belly.”

Jasper pulled away from my chest, sniffling as he wiped his eyes.

“Baby sister?”

“Baby sister,” I repeated with a smile. “Ain’t that exciting?”

Jasper studied me with slow blinks, and I realized he was far too tired to show any excitement. But when his slips spread into a sleepy grin, I knew he couldn’t wait to be a big brother.

It took fifteen minutes to get Jasper back to sleep after that. He wanted to know all about his baby sister: what her name was, when her birthday would be, and most of all, he wanted to know if Mason was just Rosie’s mommy or if he’d have two moms now. That last one I couldn’t answer. Only time could tell. But I didn’t think Mason would have a problem with me telling him...

At least, I hoped she wouldn’t.

I crept down the stairs, skipping over all the creaky ones. Mason was still out like a light, clutching the throw pillow I’d given her. The daddy kink I had developed reared its ugly head as I slid her off the couch and into my arms. My sweet girl was out cold, and all I wanted to do was take care of her... in more ways than one.

Her head was warm on my chest as she nestled in, still breathing slow and even. She looked so innocent when she was asleep. Her skin was smooth, and her freckles laid in just the right way to draw you in. Her lips parted slightly, and I could barely make out the gap in her teeth.

Mason once told me she felt like she was made of spare parts. At the time, I argued with her; I told her she was beautiful, and honest to God, I meant it. But, as I slowly carried her through the house, preparing to tuck her into my bed so she could get some much-needed rest, I realized she’d been right all along.

Mason Albright was made out of spare parts, but not in the way she meant it, not because God got lazy and suited her up with the first features he could find. Instead, she was made of the bits and bobs he treasured most—the ones he feared he’d never see again if he used them up. Traits he collected atop his mantle, waiting for the right time to bestow them upon his favorite servants and highest-ranking angels. Oh yes, he poured his best resources into creating Mason Albright.

I shifted Mason around so I could free up one hand to open my bedroom door. Once I was close enough to my bed, I gently lowered her to my mattress, doing my best to make sure she didn’t stir. A beat of beautiful silence fell between us, and I debated curling up with her.

What was the worst that could come of us napping together?

But, as I prepared to hold Mason until she woke, a commotion erupted from the direction of the front door. It sounded like feet stomping and doors slamming. Mason’s brow furrowed as she whimpered, covering her ears but not opening her eyes.

Anger flooded my body. I didn’t care who was out there, they were about to get an earful—that was for damn sure. I snuck out of my room, quietly shutting the door behind me before heading toward the sound.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that Sebastian was the one causing problems. He stood at the front door with a suitcase beside him and a plastic bag in hand. His jeans were covered in dirt, and cobwebs plagued his brassy hair.

The wind whistling against the windows was bitter, but it had nothing on the chill of his gaze.

“Where’s Mason?” His words came quickly, devoid of all the emotion he usually showed for her.

“Sleepin’. Now hush, before you wake the whole house.” I scolded.

But he shook his head.

“We’re going outside to smoke.”

“I quit when Mason showed up. One of us likes her enough to do that.”

Normally, Seb would snap at me for less than that. But this time, instead of verbally assaulting me, he tensed his jaw. The vein on the side of his neck pulsed, but his eyes never left mine.

“Cameron Cole doesn’t smoke. The jury is still out deliberating whether or not Calvin Waters does.”

I choked as the peace I had felt just moments ago evaporated, and my thoughts turned frenzied. I knew he was onto me. There was no reason why he’d make Mason read that article if he wasn’t. But, naively, I’d assumed I had more time before he confronted me.

“Are you going to arrest me?” That was all I could think to say. But, considering Sebastian had admitted to killing someone before, maybe prison should’ve been the least of my worries.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“This isn’t an inside conversation.”

I’d been proud of myself for quitting cigarettes cold turkey, but damn, I had missed smoking. My first draw was a bit overeager; the menthol in the cowboy killer Sebastian had lent me was almost enough to do me in. I coughed into my fist after my first exhale, trying to hide my watering eyes. Seb had yet to look away from me since getting home; it was as if I was a wild animal, and he was waiting for me to strike.

He pinched the brown filter between two fingers as he brought the cancer stick to his lips. His chest swelled with a breath, and he held it for a moment before letting the smoke tumble out.

“You need to take your shirt off.” he ordered.

Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I felt shy. I used my free hand to cover the buttons on my chest.

“Sorry, I ain’t one to just get naked.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes before taking a long draw to finish his cigarette. Once the filter was out of his hands, he immediately reached for another. I had to wonder: did I ever smoke that much?

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he snorted. “It’s for work.”

I gripped my shirt tighter. What did he know?

The cigarette dangled from his lips as he used both hands to light it; his left struck the white lighter, and his right shielded it from the wind. Once it caught, he examined me for a minute before reaching into his pocket, producing a folded-up piece of yellowed paper, and extending it to me. Cautiously, I took it, unfolding it slowly for fear that it might disintegrate. A lump formed in my throat as I examined the ink.

Decades had gone by since I last saw these faces: the family that went up in smoke along with the house I was raised in. I was the only one to walk away that night. But staring at the faces of my mother, brothers, sisters, and my real father didn’t comfort me. Instead, it reignited the guilt I had barely been able to snuff.

If I had just tried harder, how many of them would still be alive? If I hadn’t told Dale that my father didn’t want me going to Sunday Service anymore, would he have left us alone?

“That’s you… right?” Sebastian prodded.

I nodded once, still taking in the features of my long-lost loved ones. What I wouldn’t give for just one more night with them.

“You used to be rather handsome... granted, you were a teenager. What happened?”

His backhanded compliment wasn’t worth acknowledging.

“You can keep the photo, by the way… just don’t let Mason see it.”

A shaky breath left me as I softly folded the paper and slipped it into my pocket. Part of me wanted to ask why Mason couldn’t see it, but I had a feeling I knew the answer. If word got out that Mason was growing my baby, an invisible target would appear on her back. Even though this photo was taken well before the Sons of Christ had fully taken shape, it was best to keep as much distance between her and them as possible.

So many of my partners died just because Dale wanted me to make the perfect son with the perfect woman as an heir to his legacy. If it weren’t for me, those women would still be alive. I couldn’t let Mason fall victim to the same fate.

“I need to show you one more photo.”

“Okay,” I mouthed before snuffing out what remained of my cigarette.

A moment later, he handed me a glossy picture that knocked the air from my lungs. It was a photo of me—more specifically, my back. I was covered in long lacerations, and I had been starved so badly that my ribs were visible through my skin.

My submission to Dale hadn’t been an easy one. In the recesses of my mind, I could still hear the cracking of Dale’s whip. Sometimes, he’d strike me himself, but just as often, he’d force me to self-flagellate. Over and over, the leather cracked against my skin so rapidly that the whip grew hot with momentum and blood. I shivered at the memory, doing everything in my power to stop myself from vomiting.

Dale wanted my allegiance, a face for his cult. That’s why he had to break me physically and mentally; he wanted to own me, and I wanted to be free.

“That is also you… correct?”

I looked up and handed the photo back to him.

“Correct.”

If I’d thought about it, I would have kept the thing just to keep him from using it as evidence, but in that moment I just wanted it away from me. Seb stuffed the photo back into his pocket and took another long drag off his cigarette, watching the ember at the tip flicker. Smoke flowed forth from his mouth, aimed directly at my face. The tobacco stung my eyes, but I maintained my composure. I wasn’t about to let this fucker intimidate me.

I was prepared to stand my ground... so it shocked the hell out of me when Sebastian actually said something intelligent, for once:

“I no longer believe you are a murderer.”

“I, uh… thank you?” Was there something else I should say to that?

“Don’t thank me yet. In exchange for removing you from the prime suspect position… I need a favor.”

Please, for the love of God, don’t ask me to leave Mason alone.

“Shoot.”

He studied me for a moment, as if contemplating whether his request was worth acknowledging my innocence.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about Dale Cooper.”

My mouth ran dry at the sound of his name. But, as desperately as I wanted to ignore Dale’s existence, I knew Sebastian was Mason’s best shot at staying safe. He admitted to killing for her, and I had a feeling he’d do it again. There was so much Seb needed to know, but I needed to get the most important parts out of the way.

“He goes by Dale Cole now,” I began, carefully considering my next words.

“He’s a man who will stop at nothing to get his message across. He’ll hurt anyone that gets in his way, no matter who it is. And... if he ever finds out that I got Mason pregnant, she and the baby will die.”